


Blood is Thicker Amongst the Stars

by ambivalentlangst



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Betrayal, Flash Fiction, M/M, Operation Kuron, Semi-Dark Lance, brain washing, clone theory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 20:17:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14838486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambivalentlangst/pseuds/ambivalentlangst
Summary: Lance has an unending supply of love to give, but he has always been reminded—however kindly—about who deserves it most.





	Blood is Thicker Amongst the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This was created for the [Voltron Big Bang](http://voltronbigbang.tumblr.com/) on tumblr for the Lance Flash Bang. I had a blast creating for this event, thank you to [lo-tor](https://lo-tor.tumblr.com/) for betaing for me! The art for this fic can be found [here!](http://anidragon.tumblr.com/post/174538341332/my-entry-for-the-lance-flash-bang-at)

Lance often remembered the way prisoners looked at Shiro when they were rescued: reverent and fearful like they were worshipping a fickle god. Lance knew there was a reason they called him Champion, and often as he laid in bed with him, that heavy arm around his waist, he thought about the kind of creatures it must’ve slaughtered in its prime. Lance thought about their screams of agony in their final moments and what Shiro might’ve looked like, the cut on his nose perhaps fresh or perhaps not yet healed. Maybe it would’ve already been a scar, darkened and leathery on his skin. Maybe it wasn’t there at all, like at the beginning, where he was fresh and young and untarnished by the cruelties of his reality. Lance wondered what it would be like to see his family suffer the same fate, that of Shiro or his victims if he decided to betray Haggar.   
  
After being captured, she had told him all the things she could do to them as her clawed hands dug into the skin of his cheek and clicked on the glass surface of Kuron’s newly emptied tank. Later, following his miraculous escape that prefaced Shiro’s arrival by a few short days, Lance often rushed to the bathroom when his mind conjured up particularly gruesome possibilities and promptly retched into the toilet bowl.   
  
Lance ran his hands down the impostor’s neck and to his chest, felt the firm muscle under scarred skin that was still wet in some places from his shower.   
  
“Oh darling,” he sighed softly, and let his touch still on his hips. He had no fear of Kuron waking, kind, grey eyes sliding open to crinkle affectionately and insist that Lance press closer because he was cold. Lance might’ve laughed if he had, a smile crowding his cheeks while he shoved his shoulder playfully and nestled in anyways because he couldn’t deny him anything. Not while he knew what he was, at least.   
  
Haggar had told him that he could do anything he wished, just as long as Kuron came to heel, and most importantly, stayed that way. Lance had known immediately how he wished to handle things. As much as liked flirting with Allura and anybody else he came across that could use a distraction, Lance had a string of broken hearts back home. 

  
He knew very well that he was pretty—mama had always said so, and Lance didn’t doubt his mama, even if she was biased. He was good at nudging arms and letting his lips curl and smooth into a smile that was warm and soft and comforting all at once. He brushed hair out of faces and let hands just barely brush when two people reached for the same thing. Lance never forced Kuron to love him, and he did care for him, in some respect. That love just wasn’t enough.

 

Lance’s hands on the skin he’d once longed to touch flitted back up to Kuron’s back, and deft fingers pressed down hard on a notch on his spine. Lance shuddered as it gave way, and the entirety of the body beneath him—strong, lined with muscle and no matter how it was grown Lance couldn’t deny that it was real—writhed, before every part of him locked up and Lance whispered in his ear.

 

“Begin Operation Kuron, stage six.” He tried very hard not to cry. Lance always got attached too quickly to everyone he met, willing to take a bullet—or a bomb—for a stranger. His mama had to remind him, on occasion, that blood was thicker than water. She would not hear of any variation of her mantra. 

 

Lance cupped Kuron’s face in his hands, the feeling of skin against skin not at all as inhuman, as wrong as he wished it would be. Kuron was hardly any different than Shiro, with his memories and love for his team. The witch simply whispered in Kuron’s ear. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t resist her thrall.

 

Lance stared into Kuron’s eyes that had become very wide and open and aware. Gold was threading through the whites of his eyes.

 

“Lance? I don’t feel right, my head hurts,” he murmured. Hearing the vulnerability in his voice, knowing he had put it there, left a sour taste in Lance’s mouth. The icy fear he felt wash over him when he thought of Veronica or Marco or Luis in the arena, at the mercy of a champion not half as merciful as Shiro, overpowered it. It always was interesting to see what Kuron retained of Lance’s meddling. Lance ran his fingers through his hair, smiling gently.

 

“You’re fine,” he lied sweetly. “It’s nothing to worry about.” Kuron winced, raising a hand to cover Lance’s, both arranged on his head. He was aware, conscious but so  _ incredibly  _ naive. It made Lance’s job easier. The gold had reached his iris, and Kuron whimpered softly. Lance leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kind, tender kiss. It was the least he could do. Haggar hadn’t specified what would happen to his true self once the experiment progressed far enough, only said that he would not be in control. If he was aware, and Lance hoped to any god there was that he wasn’t, he could grant him the small mercy of not having to turn on at least one person he loved. By the time Lance pulled back, the fear was gone, and there was only a long awaited, dreaded soldier in its place.

 

 

“You know your orders,” he told him, pulling away from the creature left in the clone’s place. Haggar had said that beyond beginning the different stages when he felt the time was right, there was nothing more he had to do. She liked being in control. Kuron stood, going to his armor, left crumpled in a pile in the corner of his room. Lance had long wondered how Shiro reported for duty so fast, and it now seemed strange to see the impostor putting it on. Lance grabbed a robe for himself and headed for the viewing deck. It was nice to pretend, if only in his manner of dress, that it was just another sleepless night.

 

Kuron would round everyone up. Haggar wanted them alive, for interrogation. Lance’s guilt was caustic and acrid in the back of his throat, choking him with its mere presence, but he’d rather the team than his niece and nephew. He couldn’t stand to think of how they’d be dragged screaming from his mother’s house, if he didn’t comply, by hulking monsters with claws and fangs that spoke of their uncle with a sneer.

 

They were helpless, and though Lance tried to deny it in a selfish shot at comforting himself, he knew his team was no match for whatever monstrosity Haggar had snuck aboard their ship. Keith was gone, the best warrior amongst them. Pidge would be too focused on her computer, even at such an ungodly hour. Hunk would be taken by surprise. Coran could fight, but at the end of the day, he was a diplomat and whatever Kuron was, he was made to kill. Matt would never dare harm any version of the man who had saved his life. Allura was the only challenge Lance could think of, but she still had inhibitions. Lance was sure Kuron had none. Lotor was far away on the main ship. Lance stared out at the stars and wondered how the new emperor would react to his greatest allies being handed over to his mother. It was a bitter thought, and Lance diverted himself from it.

 

Down the hall, he heard the first sounds of conflict. Pidge snapping, maybe, and then crashing, screaming. Realization. Lance closed his eyes and thought of the one home he could keep safe in an attempt to drown it out.

 


End file.
